Writing Prompts
by Shreiking Beauty
Summary: Was bored at lunch, looked up some writing prompts, and put them with my fav pair Reid & Morgan! Some slash maybe, endings suck. Non-connected chapters. Just go until i burn all my fuel, so endings may be drop-off.
1. Chapter 1

**Daily Writing Prompt: October 15, 2012 **

**Your character has printed something very personal and/or private and realizes they sent it to the wrong printer. It is too late to cancel it and by the time they get to it, it has disappeared. **

**Was bored at lunch so decided to brainstorm. Set before Hankel, after Elle.**

I didn't have many friends outside of work. Actually, only one. Jordan was a member of my therapy group, and we were put together as partners. None of my other friends knew about him, or that I went to group therapy. That would devastate my career! I had a suspicion that my colleagues cared enough about me to understand, but I can't get over the fear that my very best friend Derek Morgan would tease me endlessly, or JJ would ask incessant questions that are none of her business.

It was a paperwork day, and I always finished early, even with Morgan and Prentiss slipping me their files. I stuck around anyway, chatting with Jordan or bugging Morgan with facts about things he never asked about. Also, we always printed out our e-mails to each other in case we needed them for, I don't know, therapy stuff. I usually didn't print them out at work, but today I thought nothing of it.

_Spencer,_

_I'm so hung-over, I was up all night binge drinking. I know, I know, I been trying to quit, but my girlfriend broke up with me so I thought I deserved it. Okay, I guess I didn't deserve it. Listen, are you gonna come on Thursday? You keep skipping to go on cases. Dr. Cooley is mad. He says you're hiding from him, and the other group members are jealous because on the rare occasion that you show up, he has to focus on you so much._

_Also, he says you're not improving. You need to come more, and talk about yourself instead of weird things that nobody cares about. And I hate you. Not really, I'm just drunk again. You know what sucks? My girlfriend broke up with me because she found out about my therapy. She says she didn't want to go out with a crazy person. That bitch! I love her . . . besides, I'm not crazy, I just have PTSD. I never told anyone this, (except Dr. Cooley), but when I was little, my dad used to take my brothers and I camping, and once, they led me to this cave and left me there. I was lost for like two days! And don't tell anyone about that! I'm very sensitive on the subject of my brothers._

_Oh, look at me, getting all drunk and emotional. I gotta go. See you Thursday._

_Jordan_

I sighed. Jordan was hopeless; everything that happened to him was an excuse to go drinking. But he and his girlfriend, who's name I didn't know, had been together for almost a year. Without thinking, I pulled up the print options and clicked "ok", trusting the default settings. I was only a little worried when I saw that I had sent it to the printer in another room, and hurried to get it.

"It should be sitting in the printer in that other room," said Hotch. Morgan left his office to go get it, glancing at Reid sighing at something on his computer. When he got to the room, however, there were two printed papers in the tray. He took his, but couldn't help noticing _Spencer _written at the top of the next paper. It looked like and e-mail. Immediately he assumed it was from some girlfriend of Reid's that he had never mentioned, and he quickly snatched it, planning to read it and tease Reid about it later.

He snuck into a different hallway to get back to the bullpen to avoid crossing paths with Reid. At the bottom, it appeared to be from someone named Jordan, adding fuel to his suspicions. At his desk, he thought about sharing his treat with Prentiss, but thought that might be a little too far, going around and telling everyone. He bit his lip to keep from grinning, fidgeting with curiosity, and read it.

His shoulders slumped. Not what he expected at all. And definitely nothing he should have taken. He wasn't sure what to do with this. It had never occurred to him that innocent, nerdy Reid could have any secrets that actually mattered. For a brief moment, he looked at Hotch's office, wondering if this was something he should know about.

He looked at Reid's desk. He wasn't there; probably ransacking the other room for his e-mail. Morgan bit his lip. He could slip the paper back on his desk, but he kind of wanted to keep it and talk to Reid about it later. He felt sorry for him, keeping such a big secret from the team, and wanted to be able to talk about anything with his best friend.

Plus, he couldn't deny it anymore, he was sickeningly curious.

Reid started hyperventilating. Forget about himself, that e-mail had very confidential information about Jordan. How could he betray his only friends trust? His thoughts kept fleeting to that 'confidentiality agreement' he had signed. So careless, he had been so careless.

After going through the trash bin several times and checking the printer tray, he gave up. Maybe someone would blackmail him with it. 'That's good', he thought. 'Think positive. Someone will blackmail me with it. Then, it will stay secret. Keep it secret.'

He hurried back to the bullpen. Keep busy. And change settings on print options. Sitting at his desk, he tried to calm down, but he was in therapy, for goodness sake! That was like asking a dog walk on his hind legs. It just wasn't happening. He looked up at Prentiss, who looked like she was about to fall asleep. Okay, so, she probably didn't know anything.

Morgan, however, seemed to keep glancing at him, and quickly looking away. Screw profiling, that was just suspicious.

Certain that Morgan was out to get me, I left as soon as I could grab all of my things and half-run to the elevator. But the stupid elevator was on Morgan's side, and decided to wait until he caught up before it opened. Alone, in the elevator, with Morgan, who most likely knew my biggest secret, not to mention my friend's.

"So, you drive today?" he asked casually.

"Yes," I automatically replied.

"I didn't see your car . . ."

"Yeah, I . . . parked somewhere else."

"Reid, you're a bad liar. Let me give you a ride." He smiled all friendly. All scenarios I had planned on encountering went out the window, and were replaced by new scenarios. Announce it to the bullpen; gone. Fire me with horrible questions; gone. Blackmail me; improbable. Go all noble and try to help me; possible.

"I'll just take the train." I almost whispered.

"Come on, Reid, I'm not gonna take no for an answer, so you can keep fighting or just give it up now." I sighed, knowing he was right. We were silent all the way to his truck. He opened the door for me, probably worried I would run away. "So, I have a feeling you know what I want to talk about."

"It was just an e-mail. My friend Jordan was upset, he broke up with his girlfriend . . ." I tried to explain.

"I know, I read it." He looked guilty. "I'm sorry, man, I shouldn't have taken it, or read it. I just . . . wasn't thinking. I want you to know, you can talk to me about anything, okay?"

I sighed. Usually, I would push him away and hide, but I was so tired of that. I was so tired of not being able to trust anyone.

"I've been going to group therapy for a few years. I'd been having panic attacks, and my doctor said it might help . . . but I don't think it is. You know, it might sound crazy, but I think this job is helping me more. Not the "catching crazy killers" part, but . . . just being with you guys. You're the only people that ever really cared about me, the only people I've really cared about . . . sorry if I'm annoying you with this." I looked down at my hands in my lap.

"No, you're not. I'm glad you told me this." He sighed, not knowing what to say.

"Thanks for listening," I whispered.

"Always." I looked up at the unfamiliar street we were driving on.

"Um . . . Derek? Where are we going?"

"Oh, uh, well, I don't actually know where you live, so . . . do you wanna go to my house? We could just hang out for a while, talk . . . I'll take you home later."

I smiled shyly. "O-ok. C-c-cool." Damn nervous stutter!

He smiled a little and turned into his driveway. I raised my eyebrows. "Exactly when did you decide to kidnap me?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

"About the time I realized you were actually going to open up to me." He unlocked the door and his huge dog immediately jumped up and started barking at him. "Easy, easy, Clooney, SIT!" The dog only sat for a moment before jumping back up again to examine me.

I backed away and held my hands up, but Morgan took him by his collar and led him through the house. I came in and shut the door, looking around. It was a little dark, not because of the lack of light, but he had dark hard wood floors and walls, and his furniture, which I could see in a sitting room to my right, was black leather. I smirked at the impressive DVD collection and big screen TV, so _Derek_. I bet he even had his own personal gym with an amazing sound system.

"Come on in," Morgan said, coming back through what looked like the kitchen and leading me into the sitting room.

"I-I like your house," I said stupidly, mentally kicking myself. He laughed a little and sat in an arm chair while I took the couch.

"So, what triggered your PTSD?" he asked uneasily.

"Probably a case, I can't exactly pinpoint when it started. It sucks, though, because I suppressed my memories, so I have no idea what traumatic thing is giving me . . . distress." I shrugged. "Do you think . . . do you think therapy is only for crazy people?" I asked, avoiding eye contact. He laughed a little.

"As a matter of fact, I don't think most crazy people would go to therapy." I smiled.

"Yeah."

**THE END I don't know where to go from this.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Prompt: Begin a story with the line "The clock winked". Whew, this sounds hard. If this is, like, an expression, I've never heard it, so the characters are probably gonna be high. I write as it comes to me, so expect anything.**

The clocked winked. Morgan smiled back, completely off his rocker. He was laying in his bed, too high on meds to care that he was hallucinating again. Besides, when he told the doctors, they made the hallucinations go away, and the grinning, winking clock seemed so friendly.

The clock was talking, repeating the same word over and over, a profane word that rhymed with "tuck". Morgan laughed at the swear word. His hallucinations were always so ill-behaved. He had to be so polite in the hospital, was never allowed to swear or talk about dirty things. But his hallucinations did it all the time. He thought it was funny, but it made Reid mad.

Morgan liked making Reid mad. It was so easy. And when he was mad, he would curl up in a ball and put his hands over his ears. Sometimes he would lash out, have a fit like a little kid, or hurt himself. And the doctors would swarm around him, trying to calm him down. Morgan tried to tell them it made him scared when they did that, but they ignored him, assuming they would know better than a schizophrenic that loved making the autistic man uncomfortable.

Morgan left his room to a common room with couches and chairs. It used to have a TV, but the patients fought about it too much. Reid was sitting in a corner, scribbling furiously in his Sudoku book. I walked up to him and moved in front of his field of vision, so as not to scare him. If I touched him or said his name to get his attention, he would have a meltdown. That wasn't good, I had other plans.

"Go away, leave me alone," he said in monotone, not bothering to look up or stop writing.

"The clock is saying a dirty word," I giggled. This time he stopped and looked up.

"You're lying," he said calmly, before screaming "_CLOCKS CAN'T TALK!" _One of the nurses shushed him. He cringed and groaned, smacking himself in the head repeatedly. "_SORRY!" _he screamed at her when he stopped. She rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine.

"Morgan, go away, I'm doing my puzzles. It's time to do puzzles." He always had a very precise schedule, always freaked out when his plans were altered. "Come back in three minutes."

"What's in three minutes?" Morgan asked, crinkling his eyebrows.

"In three minute: 11:30 a.m. to 12:00 p.m.: talk to Morgan," he recited. Morgan thought he must have it written down somewhere, but he had snooped around in Reid's room when he wasn't there and never found it.

Morgan looked at a shadow that was moving and had caught his attention. It grinned at him and tried to speak, but no sound came out of it's mouth. Morgan watched it try to talk, it's mouth moving faster and faster until he got scared and turned back to Reid. After a few moments, he put his puzzle book away in the brown bag he always had with him, and looked at Morgan.

"You should tell your doctor if you're seeing things," he said. I pulled a face, and watched him pull out his face book. He had a lot of books: a face book, to understand facial expressions, a speech book for when he found it hard to use his own words, books of puzzles, books to read, and a note book that he wrote things in, but he never let anyone look at that.

He scowled, mimicking the face he found in his book, then put it away and looked up at me. "I know you don't want to, but you're supposed to, and you have to follow the rules."

"I don't have to follow the rules, only you have to follow the rules," Morgan teased. Reid glared at him.

"Everybody has to follow the rules, or they get in trouble."

"But the doctor told _me _that I don't have to, and I won't get in trouble." Morgan smirked as Reid covered his ears with his hands and shook his head back and forth.

"Stop it, you're being mean, Dr. Jepson told me to tell him if you were mean to me!" he threatened.

"Come on, let's go play cards with Dan!"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, _no_! 'Play cards with Dan time' is on _Thursdays_!" Morgan was about to reply when he pulled his shirt over his mouth and coughed violently. Reid looked scared. "Morgan, Morgan, are you okay?" he said, shaking his friend. Morgan pushed his hand away.

"I'm fine!" Morgan insisted. "People cough sometimes, Reid! Let's go outside or something." It was a beautiful day outside, the only thing obscuring the scene of a bright blue sky and deep green trees were the ten-foot electric fences surrounding the small yard. Jasmine was walking around the perimeter, speaking soothing words and caressing the inner fence (which was not electric). Some of the guys were playing basketball. Reid sat down on a bench and inhaled deeply.

"Doesn't that smell nice?" he commented. Morgan agreed. He looked out and saw some teenage boys sneaking around to get a look at the "crazies". They got a lot of that. Usually they would get as close to the outer fence as possible and try to bother one of the patients before they were shooed away. Jasmine saw them and ran inside.

"Hey, you!" one of them shouted. Reid and Morgan looked up. "Come over here, I wanna show you something!" The men knew better than to walk up to them, but they both looked at them curiously. After years of isolation, any knew face is a treat to the eyes that are so accustomed to the same sights. Every month, people would come in and change the wall paper in each patient's room as an act of sympathy.

"Come on, come let me show you my dick!" He screamed. Morgan laughed and Reid gasped.

"Where are the security guards?" he hissed to Morgan.

The other boys were laughing as he leaned forward to yell something else. Unfortunately for him, he leaned a little too close and was thrown back from the force of the shock. Morgan laughed hysterically. Reid started screaming. He continued screaming as guards swarmed the place, getting the boy to a medic, calming the basketball players, scolding Morgan for laughing, and trying to convince Reid to calm down. They were smart, Morgan thought. They knew not to touch the patients.

After a minute though, Reid stopped and grabbed Morgan's arm.

"We'd better go, lunch is starting soon." The guards looked at him curiously as he calmed so quickly before going to help the others, as Morgan and Reid quietly went back inside.

Morgan hated the beef stew they were having today, but Reid would eat anything as long as they told him what they were going to have the day before. They were sitting side by side, with Dr. Jepson sitting across from them.

"Did you have a nice afternoon, Dr. Reid? I heard there was some trouble out in the yard," he asked politely. Reid always felt special when they called him "Dr." He had worked hard for the title, and three PhD's are hard enough to get before the age of 23, harder still in a mental institution.

"Yes, a boy got electrocuted," he replied, as though he were remarking on the weather. "He was trying to show us his dick."

"Dr. Reid, don't say that word," he scolded.

"That's what the boy said, though," Morgan said.

"What are we eating tomorrow?" Reid asked.

"For breakfast, pancakes. For lunch, grilled cheese sandwiches." Reid smiled; those were his favorite. "For dinner, Sheppard's pie."

"I don't like Sheppard's pie," Morgan complained.

"What about chicken? We're having chicken for dinner today," Reid said, smiling. "You love chicken."

"Yeah, I love chicken." Morgan was now looking forward to dinner.

"Group therapy today," Dr. Jepson reminded them. "We're going to play a game today." Morgan and Reid smiled.

"I love games! What kind of game?" Reid asked.

"A guessing game."

"I'm very good at guessing. Can Morgan be on my team?"

"Sure, but you need one other person."

Reid looked around at the other patients in his group. He didn't really like any of them. Kristi was good at games, though. "How about Kristi?"

"Maybe, but remember, it could be anyone." Reid slumped in his chair. He didn't like not being able to plan things, but he knew it would be bad if he planned on Kristi and she wanted to be on someone else's team. "Listen to me, Reid. Some students from the University are coming to play with us, okay? I want to be ready for that." Reid looked down and nodded, determined to be good for the students. He was proud of his self restraint, as he had the urge to break down at the new, too short of notice.

There was an hour break between lunch and group therapy, which Reid spent reading and Morgan spent exercising in the physical therapy room. Reid sometimes went and watched him, always impressed by his strength and ability.

They went to the group room together and sat next to each other in the circle. They were almost always the first. Reid said punctuality was a social indicator of someone with good priorities and sensible responsibility. Morgan thought he didn't need good social skills since they were in an institution. Not until all the patients were there did they bring out the students. They had strict instructions to stay calm, be weary of the patients' comfort zones, and to be courteous of their social inadequacies.

Their assignment was to attempt diagnose each patient by simply observing their behavior. They all stood at the front of the room with clipboards and pens. Dr. Jepson introduced everyone.

"Everyone get into groups of threes," he told the patients. Reid happily sat between Morgan and Kristi, who had actually been assigned to be on their team. The students then filled in any empty seats. A pretty, blond haired, blue-eyed girl sat by Morgan. He looked at Reid, eyeing the girl.

"You like her, don't you!" he teased. "You have a crush on her!"

Reid blushed and smacked him. "Stop it! No I don't! You're being mean again!"

"Reid! Don't hit! Morgan! Quit teasing him!" Dr. Jepson barked.

The blond girl smiled kindly. "My name is Angelika," she said sweetly. Reid automatically went into a rant about the significance of the name.

"Angelika is a German feminine name. In German, it is pronounced 'An_gel_ika', and in Polish, it is pronounced 'Angel_eek_a.' It is derived from the Latin word _angelicus, _meaning 'angel like.' Ultimately related to the Greek word _angelos_, which means 'messenger.' It has been used as a given name since the 18th century."

Angelika looked at him, impressed, and scribbled some notes on one of the papers. Reid looked at it worriedly.

"What's that?"

"My assignment." He leaned over and glimpsed the top of the page.

"Why does it have my name on it?"

"The assignment is about you. I have a paper with all three of your names on it."

"What did you write about me?" he asked apprehensively. She read it out loud.

"'Exhibits superior intellectual knowledge.'" Reid smiled proudly.

**Alright, I'm out of fuel. Sorry about the crappy ending.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Writing Prompt: Recall something you did to get noticed. I personally try my hardest to stop being noticed, but I could think of something Reid would do to get the attention of one tall, dark, and handsome agent . . . Also no reviews yet, I LIVE 4 REVIEWS**

_Reid's POV_

"Look, everyone on your team knows you like him except him," Veronika started. "They're, like, your family. You can't keep secrets from one member!"

"I'm pretty sure it's okay if the secret is that you have a crush on him!" I retorted. "That's beside the point, anyway. I physically cannot just walk up to him and tell him I love him. I would pass out or something!" Veronika got that sneaky look in her eyes. I could tell the gears were turning. Usually this was a good thing. Whatever she cooked up _always _worked out.

But there's a first time for everything, right?

"Veronika, whatever you're thinking—"

"Shh! Listen! What if you made _him_ come to_ you_?"

"There are a few things wrong with that! For one, he's _straight, _two, he's _straight, _and three, even if he wasn't straight, which he is, what makes you think he would like me? I have no sex appeal whatsoever."

"Oh, Spencer. Maybe not to most girls, but every gay man and half the straight ones want to rape your ass."

"Oh, thank you, I feel much better now." I got off my couch and went to the kitchen to get more coffee.

"Listen! It's a fail-safe! You flaunt yourself around a little, and if he's interested, continue until he crushes you against the office wall and devours those luscious lips of yours!" she fist-pumped triumphantly.

"Mmhmm, and if he's not interested?"

"Then stop flaunting, and BAM! You know he's not interested and you can come back to loving _me_!" she teased. "See? No fail. Except for the part where you're depressed for the rest of your life and can't look at him the same way, but there are counselors for that sort of thing." I rolled my eyes at her.

"How exactly will I know if he's interested?" I had to admit, I kind of liked the plan. That's Veronika for you.

"You're a profiler, do your job!"

"We're not supposed to profile each other . . ."

"This is an emergency! Ugh, and besides, I watch you guys all day. He definitely likes you. Everybody thinks so."

"Wait, you watch us?"

"Yeah, on TV. You know, Criminal Minds?"

"We're on a TV show?!"

"I have the best idea ever! Wear some normal people clothes! If he thinks they're hot, he likes you. If he likes your old clothes better, he likes you. If he teases you about them, he likes you and he's really good at hiding it."

"What if he doesn't say anything at all?"

"Then he's brain dead, and he likes you. Come on, I have some dark jeans I think will fit you, and you can wear my Nightmare Before Christmas T-shirt!"

Veronika pretended to faint. I did look kind of good in them, I guess, but I liked my other clothes better. She jumped up and handed me my vibrating phone.

"_It's Morgan!" _ I hissed.

"Answer it!"

"Reid," I said automatically.

"_Hey, Pretty Boy, sorry to spoil your weekend, but we got a case."_

"O-okay, be there in twenty."

"Ooh, the best part of being an author: you can put opportunities in the perfect parts!" Veronika exclaimed.

"You're crazy. But I can't go like this!"

"Dude, this was the whole plan! Just say I made you try it on, and you didn't have time to change!" She stuffed my clothes in my go-bag.

"Alright, come on," I sighed.

"I'm not coming with you!" she shouted incredulously.

"I know! But I'm not leaving you alone in my apartment!"

The entire drive was nerve wrecking. I kept tapping the steering wheel and fiddling with the radio, and squirming in the scratchy jeans I was wearing. As expected, everyone stared when I entered the conference room.

"Wow, nice outfit," Prentiss said.

"Spence! I never knew you actually wore regular clothes!" JJ said.

Rossi chuckled. Hotch raised his eyebrows at me. Garcia walked in behind me and said something about my ass. I sat down and waited for Morgan to come in.

He whistled. "What's with the threads, Pretty Boy?"

"Um, my friend made me try them on and I didn't have time to change," I said, looking down as a file was set in front of me. Maybe I was just imagining it, but Morgan seemed to keep looking at me out of the corner of his eye through the whole presentation.

He sat next to me on the jet.

"I always had a theory that you really dressed like this at home," he said.

"Nope," I said. "Just today. . . Do you like it?" I asked awkwardly, blushing.

He chuckled. "Yeah, it's hot." Ahh! Hot! Veronika said that means he likes me! Probably not, though. He's just always like that. Just in case though, I smiled shyly at him and brushed his fingers as I raised my hand to push my bangs behind my ears. He sucked in a sharp breath, watching me.

"Psst! Spence!" JJ hissed unnecessarily, as everyone on the jet could hear her. "Come here!" I looked at Morgan, who shrugged, and went to the table where she and Prentiss were sitting. Hotch and Rossi were talking quietly in the corner of the jet, and Morgan put his headphones in, giving us privacy. Garcia was on the laptop webcam.

"Well, come on, why are you wearing that?" she hissed excitedly.

"I-I told you, my, uh, my friend made me try it on, and, and, I didn't have time to change," I stammered.

"Come on, Spence, this has something to do with Morgan, doesn't it?" JJ whispered, shoving my shoulder playfully.

"N-n-no," I said quietly, looking down and blushing furiously. Apparently the girls took that as a yes.

"Oh, my gosh, you love him, I knew it!" Prentiss giggled. I looked worriedly at Morgan, but his eyes were closed and his ear pieces were in. Hotch and Rossi were still talking about some papers in front of them.

"Ooh, my chocolate Adonis and junior g-man are finally gonna be together!" Garcia squealed.

"Wait, what? No, no, I was just, uh, testing a theory, my friend made me do it, she really did, it wasn't my idea, and Morgan, Morgan doesn't, uh, reciprocate my feelings, um, not that I have feelings . . ." I gave up trying to explain when they rolled their eyes.

"Reid, please," Prentiss insisted. "We see you two together. It's been torture, not being allowed to intervene."

"Not being _allowed_ . . ." I asked.

"Hotch said we had to 'let it take its natural course,'" Garcia explained, imitating Hotch's voice.

"_Hotch_ knows?" I looked around and caught him and Rossi staring at us, before hurriedly going back to their papers. "Great. So everyone knows. Except, thankfully, Morgan. I mean, he doesn't know, right?"

"Well, no, but that's not a good thing! We've got to hook you two up!" JJ said.

"Guys, please, I would die if he found out!"

"Quit worrying," Prentiss said. "There's a 99.999999% chance that he likes you back."

"There's no way you could possibly know that," I quipped.

"Let's ask him," Garcia suggested.

"No! No, no, no! Its fine, I'll deal! I'm perfectly okay with us just being really good friends!"

"Well, we're not," JJ whined, but I walked away and sat next to Morgan, who looked at me questioningly, but I just shrugged at him.

_Morgan POV_

Prentiss and I were driving to the crime scene when Garcia called. I put her on speaker.

"Hey, Baby Girl, talk to me," I said, setting the phone between Prentiss and I.

"_We have a very serious situation at hand_," she said.

"Um, okay, like what?"

"Like, you like Reid, don't you?" Prentiss said suddenly, turning to look at me.

"What? No! What are you – that's ridiculous!"

"_Don't bother denying it, let's just skip to the part where we scandalously hook the two of you up,_" Garcia said. I sighed, knowing, in the end, they'd make me admit to it, anyway.

"What makes you think he likes me?" I asked stubbornly.

"He told us," Prentiss said. I looked at her incredulously.

"He _told _you? He just came up to you and announced his love for me?"

"_No, dummy, we squeezed it out of him!"_

I groaned loudly.

"Here's what we're gonna do," Prentiss said. "Tonight, you and Reid are gonna be so starving, and the rest of us are just gonna want to go to bed, which will leave the two of you to a nice dinner alone," she finished proudly. I tried to protest, but it's just impossible when Garcia's got her mind made up about something.

_Reid's POV_

"Hey, Reid, you're pretty hungry, right?" Prentiss said.

"Um, not really—"

"Yeah, I knew you would be, and you too, Morgan?" He nodded, somewhat reluctantly.

"We'd go to dinner with you, but we're all so tired," JJ said. I sighed, knowing exactly what they were up to and not liking it one bit.

Sure enough, thirty minutes later, I found myself sitting across from the man of my dreams, drinking crappy coffee in a well-lit diner. The awkward silence was unbearable, but I might have preferred it to what Morgan said next.

"Look, I know you like me."

I choked on my coffee. Those dirty, cunning, scheming, girls! I had no idea what to say, completely unprepared. I could deny it, but he would see right through that. I could pretend it was no big deal, but how would he look at me after that? Like some kid with a high-school crush on him? It would completely ruin our friendship! And I obviously couldn't admit to it, 'cause, then what would happen? Nothing! My genius mind, always three steps ahead, drew a blank in that scenario.

So I let him make the next move, which was probably the best idea of my life.

"I like you, too." I looked up at him, somewhat stunned, and partially worrying that this was some sort of joke. But he wouldn't do that, he knows when enough is enough.

"You-you do?" I asked quietly, awkwardly, stupidly.

He smirked. "Yeah, I do." And he leaned across the table and kissed me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Writing Prompt: Write in the perspective of a coffee maker that short-circuited. As soon as I saw this, I knew it was destined for CM FanFiction! Their break room coffee maker has been a basic source of nutrition for the team, so what happens when their dependable friend is out of service?**

For years I had been used in this office, every day by every person like clockwork. I felt my number was up months ago, but the budget pushed me as far as I could go for as long as I could go. Well beyond the life expectancy of the average coffee pot, and an out-of-date model none the less, I should have been replaced a long time ago. Or at least before disaster occurred. That morning, there was a sharp POP and a flash of light, and nevermore would I make my delicious brown drink for the patrons of this place.

As usual, the first to force me to life and squeeze every bit of coffee out of me (only to be drowned with an inexcusable amount of sugar, I might add), was Dr. Spencer Reid. He opened my top and placed the filter in, faithfully completing the steps to award him with a steaming mug of deliciousness, before noting that the light would not turn on. No hot water combined with the coffee bean powder.

He gasped, horrified, and rushed out, to return about 15 minutes later with an annoyed looking Aaron Hotchner, or "Hotch," as they referred to him. He examined me a moment before mimicking his horrified expression.

"What do we do?" Reid said. "I can't go all day without my coffee!"

Hotch placed a calming hand on his shoulder, though his expression was less than calm. "It's okay, maybe we can fix this . . ." but there was little hope in his voice.

Just then, Morgan came in. "I thought you'd be in here," he joked, still oblivious to the crime at hand.

"Morgan, there's something wrong with the coffee maker!" Reid exclaimed, and Morgan pulled the third horrified expression before rushing over to it.

He fiddled around with my mechanisms for a moment. "Come on, baby, work for me," he said soothingly, as though the sultry sound of his voice was enough to jump start me.

Prentiss came in next, followed by JJ, and I awaited their own horrified expressions. They didn't disappoint when Morgan told them the news.

"Oh, no, if I don't get any coffee, I'll fall asleep at my desk!" JJ complained.

"At least you don't have Reid sitting five feet away from you," Prentiss said. "Remember, Morgan, when we were out of coffee, and we had to send the maintenance guy for some? I could handle ten minutes without coffee, but Reid succeeded in making it the worst ten minutes of my life."

"That's not true! There's no way you could know that! And it wasn't that bad! I was just a little crabby!" Reid defended, confirming Prentiss's rant. Once Rossi and Garcia came in and heard the news, I had seen the same horrified face on each of the team members. Reid once said that you mimic the faces of those you are around a lot. He was right.

I was able to enjoy the last few moments of my life listening to the team banter about what to do, except for Reid, who was banging his head against the table throughout the entire exchange.

"I told you, we should've replace that thing months ago!" Rossi said.

"It wasn't in the budget," Hotch said.

"One of us should just buy one!" Prentiss said.

"I don't want coffee that bad," Morgan joked.

"I'll do it, I'll get another coffee maker!" Garcia said.

"Go, Garcia, I'm sure Hotch won't mind," JJ said.

"Of course, just hurry," Hotch said. They all looked at him, usually the calm, collected one of the group. "In case Strauss sees, of course," he said, covering it up. They sat in silence, waiting for their friend (which could mean Garcia or the new coffee maker), all aware that no work could get done under the circumstances.

Garcia rushed in almost half an hour later with a large box containing a new, up-to-date model. It was black and silver, very impressive looking. I was pushed aside, replaced by the new machine.

Reid got to work memorizing the thick handbook it came with at the speed only a genius could match. Morgan unfolded the setup instructions and began ordering his colleagues about how to arrange the complicated apparatus. Garcia and JJ stole away with the bubble wrap, content knowing the others would provide coffee momentarily.

When it was finished, Reid went first, chugging down his cup as everyone else got there's before getting in for a second one and going back to work, as though nothing had happened.

**Taking a break for NaNoWriMo, will try to upload sometime in December.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm back! Also seriously, review. Any prompts you want me to try, I won't turn one down! ANY Prompt! Seriously! But it might be really short and lame. Also, there is this zipper in my computer room with no purpose or origin! Writing Prompt: A flight attendant drinking champagne in first class. Ready, set, go!**

"Hey, everyone, I have great news!" Garcia said shortly after being briefed on the latest case. We all looked at her, somewhat suspecting it wasn't as great to us as it was to her. "Our jet is not working properly, so we – meaning you – will have to take a public airline. And, to make up for events that I will not recall **(because I can't think of anything on the spot) **I am paying the extra cost for you all to ride first class!"

Most of us cheered, but I just smiled a little. I loathed public airlines more than going to clubs with Morgan. Which is _really _saying something!

Speaking of Morgan, he punched me lightly on the shoulder. "Come on, man, when was the last time you flew first class?"

"I could legitimately consider our private jet 'first class'." I retorted.

"Come on, Reid, you can make the pretty flight attendants bring you all the coffee you want!"

"No, thank you, I can make my own coffee."

"Why so bitter?" Prentiss asked as we walked out to get our go-bags.

"He's scared the security guards are going to molest him," Morgan said. Prentiss chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"I am _not_!" I said defensively. "I just don't like other people to be near me."

"I'm other people," he said, pretending to sound hurt.

"You don't count because you're nice to me. Sometimes."

"There are nice people at the airport," Prentiss insisted.

"The nice people are the ones that leave me alone."

"Don't we get to go through really fast since we're FBI?" JJ asked hopefully.

Luckily, we did. Hotch took care of security for us, and we were on the flight before I knew it. We weren't alone in the first class cabin, though. Rossi sat next to an interested looking man in a suit. In front of them was a couple on their honeymoon. There was also a man that looked extremely annoyed that the cabin was so full.

I sat next to Morgan because he's my best friend even if I'm not _his_ best friend. Prentiss sat alone in the row behind us, and Hotch and JJ sat in the row behind her. Rossi was stuck next to the interested guy, who was sitting behind the annoyed one, who was sitting behind the couple, who were too heavily immersed in each other to notice a group of FBI agents.

As soon as the flight attendants came out, I went to sit next to Prentiss so I wouldn't have to listen to Morgan flirt mercilessly with them and pulled out my book. Before I started reading, however, I was concerned that someone would want to know why I read so fast. I hated when people asked me that: I read that fast because I could! It was natural! What, did they think I was racing someone? Which I did, once. I won, obviously. Two hundred dollars. Why anyone would pay me so much to read a novel, I don't know. Probably because the book sucked.

"I wish I was a flight attendant," Prentiss said longingly, looking at Morgan who now had a flight attendant sitting on his lap and drinking his champagne, giggling.

"How does he do that so fast?" I asked, truly bewildered. Twenty minutes later, Morgan had sealed his deal with the flight attendant, Hotch and JJ were whispering quietly, Rossi was trying not to look at the man next to him, and Prentiss was bored out of her mind. I, forgetting my self-consciousness, was contentedly turning pages in the thick book on my lap. Finally, the man next to Rossi couldn't hold his curiosity in any more.

"So, you're all traveling together?" he asked. "That's a big group. Where are you going?" Rossi looked at him incredulously.

"Uh, yeah, we're going wherever this plane takes us," he said. Discouraged, he looked at me.

"Hey! You! With the book!" I looked at him anxiously. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, reading," I said. Prentiss started shaking next to me, trying to stifle her laughter.

"What, are you just looking at the pictures," he scoffed. How could anyone be this nosy?

"He can read, like, two million words a minute!" Prentiss said seriously. He looked impressed.

"Prentiss!"

"Can you really?" he asked, thoroughly intrigued.

"No, I can't! That's ridiculous!" The flight attendant took that moment to run a quick check on her duties, leaving Morgan to join the conversation.

"What are we talking about?" he asked.

"How many words a minute can he read?" Prentiss asked.

"Uh, I don't know, a million? Ask him." They all looked at me.

"Ugh, two thousand," I said grudgingly.

"Two thousand!" Morgan scoffed. "It was way more than that last time you said it!"

"No, it's always been two thousand," JJ said, her and Hotch looking up.

"Why do you want to know how fast I read, anyway?" I asked. Suddenly, two thousand words wasn't enough for Morgan.

"Why are you traveling?" the guy asked suddenly. "Are you going to a conference or something?" He caught sight of a folder JJ was looking at. "Oh, my gosh, are you the FBI?"

"Yes," Rossi said irritably, glaring at him. The man in front of them, whose scowl had been deepening as the conversation ensued, looked up, as did the quietly flirting couple.

"What are you doing?" the woman asked. "Is there something wrong?"

"Our business is none of your concern," Hotch said sternly. I smirked and went back to reading. _Please, _I thought, _can we just get there quietly?_ Apparently, that wouldn't be the case.

"You're _our_ government, it _is_ our business!" shouted the cranky man. I groaned. JJ, the media liaison, looked at him sweetly.

"Our job is to keep you safe. If keeping you in the dark about what's going on is the best way to do that, then that's what we have to do. I'm sure, when all is said and done, there will be all the information you want available on the news or on the internet." He scowled at her.

"Well, how am I supposed to keep myself safe if I don't know what's going on?"

"Sometimes, these criminals _want_ you to know what's going on and prey on that. If you needed to know anything, we'd tell you." He rolled his eyes and started grumbling to himself about government secrets and stuff.

"Hey!" Morgan said. "Reid! I have an idea!"

"Good, save it for your old age," Rossi said.

"Nah, man, listen!"

I sighed. "I don't know, Morgan, your ideas have ways of getting me into trouble . . ."

"But listen! I've been looking at this pamphlet about this place we're going to, and there's skydiving! That would be so much fun!" I cringed and clutched my book.

"Who would willingly jump out of an airplane thousands of feet above the ground?" I asked shakily.

"I think it sounds fun," Prentiss said, turning around to face Hotch. "When we finish the case, can we go, Hotch? Please?"

"Please?" Morgan added. He rolled his eyes.

"If you want to, I guess. But don't make Reid go if he doesn't want to." I beamed at him.

"Yay, thanks, Hotch!" I said. Morgan scoffed. "You can't go against Hotch's orders, Morgan."

"Yeah, well, I can find a loop hole."

"Like what?" I asked worriedly.

"I'll just have to make you want to come."

"Hotch! Help me!" I said.

"Reid, I forbid you from going skydiving even if you are kidnapped and physically forced." I smiled, relieved, and sat back with my book.

"Lame," JJ said.

"This is so weird," the woman said. "I can't believe FBI agents tease each other and have fun like regular people!"

"What did you think we were?" Morgan said. "We're all that same as you guys, just with a different job. We're all just regular people. Except for Reid, nobody's really sure what the hell he is."

**And so, the FBI educated four civilians about the inner workings of an FBI agent. Also, I don't know what else to write.**


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